Paintings by fliss
Colours vivid
Colours bright
Texture livid
Radiating bright
Cottages rural
Pen and ink
Not done as a mural
Shaded as the sun sinks
Autumn leaves
So vivid and right
Oh let me please
Hold them so light
Abstract art deco
Grace and whirls
Lucid memories echo
Canvas covered swirls
Beach scene
Evoking holidays abroad
Laid back and serene
Paintings on board
Sunflower so warm
Head in full bloom
Sit and look until dawn
Paintings so rich, warmth filling room.
poem by Robert Green
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Related quotes
Paintings by fliss III My Friend The Artist.
Am I to recover
A good friend I discover
An artist to take note
Of what I'm carrying about.
She paints a moment
A scene so poignant
Something to treasure
A coming together
Her art now loud
It speaks her proud
It calls for attention
Her abstract sensation
Two I have seen
One of orange and green
A canvas so clean
it's story serene.
Her pen and ink
Look again don't blink
Sunflower in bloom
No paintings of gloom.
Her eyes shine bright
Laughter so light
Looking for direction
Head turned, distraction.
Now I smile, and with reason
A brand new Season
Spring is here
Freshness to the air
Two minds that kiss
My friend, fliss!
poem by Robert Green
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Symphony Of Colours
I am a painter,
My hands hold a brush,
Moving as my heart wants,
Laughing the joy and crying the sorrow of my life.
I am playing with warm colours,
Using shadows I am emphasizing light,
I want the mankind see the beauty,
Of the marvelous world we have around.
Colours shine on my blank canvas,
In tones of rainbow and joyful lights,
All the warmth of the living,
Is concentrated in a piece of art.
Vibrant colours are merging together,
Dancing in shadows and lights,
All the past and the present lies here,
Being a reflection of my mind.
My thoughts are filling my canvas,
The brush strokes are following my dream,
Expressing the depths of my heart,
A symphony of colours has many stories to tell.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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The Colours of Autumn
Coppery red leaves,
Falling from trees,
That soon will be bare.
The colours of Autumn.
Piles of reddish brown,
Lying scattered on the ground.
And a chill in the air.
The colours of Autumn.
The sky is grey,
Shorter days,
And darker nights.
The colours of Autumn.
Evenings bathed in gold,
Thunderclouds so bold,
And weaker sun, not as bright.
The colours of Autumn.
poem by Amy Darnbrook
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Sun and Sunflowers
the sunflower
finds the sun
much to love
dawn till dusk
moves to where
the sun has been
a pair of lovers
snuggling to where
it matters most
sun holds
nothing back
gives his all to
a faithful mate
who never shies
away from him
in your bossom
too is a sunflower
twiriling in sequence
to you for every
of our needs,
savour every scent,
warmth
radiating from
the source of both
our beings
evoking a sensual
exploratory journey
iresistible for us
despite the distance
laid out between us
i hold on to you and
bow to nature as it
tells us in its firm
silence within
ourselves
and tautly onto
our face
it is our hearts
that matter
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Life will live and love will win
The sunrise above the curtains shines through the window
lighting up the darkness and chasing away the demons to
the back of your mind, let the light shine bright as it glistens
on the streets as the colours grow, showing the wonder of
what the darkness hides, just another day and another world
that shines so bright, another animal in the vast sunlight waiting
for the darkness to come, the light heats up the streets as the
colours shine out of the ground, delicate and soft with the world
below and above never ending, the myths of the future misting
the past into a bright blur that swirls in the back of your mind,
the soft colours come forward as the harsh we forgive and
forget, with a light that shines never ending swirls, as it moves
through the sky, as the light goes by, causing the life to move in
never ending circles, the light burning and swirling never touching,
glimpse of faith to the light, all until the darkness takes over once
again, and we all lie in wait for the light.
poem by HannahJane Brazier
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Fancy Colors
Robert Lamm, 1970)
Going where the orange sun has never died
And your swirling marble eyes shine
Laughing
Burning through the light
Bittersweet the drops of life
Memories only fading
Fancy Colours, fancy Colours
All we ever did see
When we're down at the sea
We see things so very bright at the sea
Fancy Colours, fancy Colours
All we ever can do
The morning covered with dew
We do things so very fine at the dew
Fancy Colours, fancy Colours
All we ever do hear
The world wether we're hear or there
We hear things so very fine when we're there
Andr Velloso - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
[email protected]
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everything Vivid oh so Real
So surreal
everything appears
too real to be real
sober wide eye lucid mind
hallucinations?
How dull our perception
what we deem to be real
hydrogen strawberry patch
purple atmosphere soil
harvest dawn
streaks of violet orange-red
blood shed
sky's living proof
cloud's ceremonial formation
channeling spirits of great
distant cousin mountain ranges
sky
vivid oh so real
trees
vivid oh so real
auto metallic body paint
vivid oh so real
neighbor's sleep eye smile
vivid oh so real
morning rabbithole obligations
vivid oh so real
stage and spot light silence
vivid oh so real
flying feathered wake-up calls
vivid oh so real
everything I see
everything I touch
vivid oh so real
everything I feel
everything I imagine
vivid oh so real
dew transfers from
air to grass to my
bare flesh
vivid oh so real
my body
everything within
everything without
vivid oh so real
tepid bitterness
lukewarm caffeine fix
vivid oh so real
every illusion
performed by the senses
vivid oh so real
meditations under fulsome
tree branches
peace of mind
vivid oh so real
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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So Right To Begin
When Autumn comes to go to show,
Just how beautiful this season can be!
And leaves that fall from the trees,
Vivid and bright...
Cools those nights enjoyed peacefully.
So right to begin,
Anticipated holidays.
So right to begin,
A festival of feasts.
and so right to begin,
Preparing for a new year...
As an old one ends.
So right to begin,
Anticipated holidays.
So right to begin,
A festival of feasts.
and so right to begin,
Preparing for a new year...
As an old one ends.
When Autumn comes to go to show,
Just how beautiful this season can be!
And leaves that fall from the trees,
Vivid and bright...
Cools those nights enjoyed peacefully.
And so right to begin,
Preparing for a new year...
As an old one ends,
to welcome fresh beginnings.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Autumn Day
Floating all night on waves of clouds
Searching for what life enshrouds
Woke in the morning to the misty dew
Lost in thought of the day anew.
I gaze from the window onto the lawn
And engage my thoughts on the new dawn
The colours and signs of seasonal bliss
These are things you should not miss.
Autumn colours of red, brown and gold
The landscape before you do unfold
Trees burn bright against the sun
The afternoon is nearly done.
As the sun goes down the colours surround
Red, yellow, orange melt into the ground
Night time falls and the colours hue
Turning the sky to a deeper blue.
The moon is out in all it's glory
The stars twinkle bright and showy
As the last of the stars fade away
Comes the breaking of a new day.
poem by Hazel Connelly
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The Colour of Ecstasy
The room is blank, a canvas white
Tranquil and serene and bright
In the mirror I stare numbly and gently I sigh
Its quiet but for whispering in the cubicle nearby
And murmuring of music and excitement distant
The effect of the pill I just took: instant
Colours! Colours everywhere,
What can one do but cry and despair?
The colours are swirling in and around,
Making that familiar swirling sound
Whirr, whirr flows the green,
Into the rapid yellow stream,
They swirl so loud I want to scream:
Stop! Stop swirling! Curse you!
But they never do
Suddenly euphoria in my head,
- Brain cells dead
Unmatched feeling of power
- Blood is sour
The attainable feeling of bliss
- Turns to abyss
What can one do but cry in despair?
Not a single colour anywhere
poem by Paul Savio Hearn
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I Will Not Paint Those Paintings
I used to see paintings in my mind's eyes
I used to dream scenes amazing paintings
I used to dream paintings in sleep sight
paintings in details I had never seen before
paintings which stopped heart in sight shock
I knew canvases were awkward hard to carry
to travel with poems is only paper and pen
paint your paintings inspiring I write poems
I will not soul carry paint those paintings
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fancy Colours
Going where the orange sun has never died
And your swirling marble eyes shine
Laughing
Burning blue the light
Bittersweet the drops of life
Memories only fading
Fancy colours
Fancy colours
All we ever did see
When were down at the sea
We see things so very clear at the sea
Fancy colours
Fancy colours
All we ever can do
The morning covered with dew
We do things so very fine in the dew
Fancy colours
Fancy colours
All we ever do hear
But whether were here or there
We hear things so very fine when were there
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Purple Petals Show (Balassi Stanza)
When purple petals show
speckled black and yellow,
a small modest lily spread
lovely vivid colours
blooming for many hours
as she opens her bright head
and as time passes by
she draws the human eye
before she withers, are dead.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Up until 35 I had a slightly skewed world view. I honestly believed everybody in the world wanted to make abstract paintings, and people only became lawyers and doctors and brokers and things because they couldn't make abstract paintings.
quote by Frank Stella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Painting
Painting calmed you,
brought tranquillity to your soul
more that a cup of tea could do
and with every brush stroke
of the painter’s pencil
faces got form
and character and soul,
eyes got colour
and followed me anywhere
in that room.
Tuscan streets came to life
with little cafés,
people sitting at tables,
selling bread and arranging
lavender flowers
against the backdrop
of the sky, the sea
and villas on a hill.
Abstract paintings reminded me
of scenes under the sea,
or rural villages
with people in front
of a old TV-set,
black girls smiled charming,
carrying pots on their heads
or children piggyback
looking cute
in a comic character way
and with every painting
I saw your skills grow
and pictures stroked
to the finest detail.
I watch your measuring eye,
you confident hand,
colours being mixed
on a palette board
and part of your soul
became part of me
and we shared
long moments together.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Painting Primary Method Bypass
wet-on-wet
practice
has become
well-known
primary method
of painting used
by rapid
fire artists
lighter colours
will usually
mix
with darker
colours
if laid
over top
while wet
applied
simple
technique
relies
on painting
from light
colours up
achieving
bestowing
painting
a soft
look
order
allows
colours
to be
blended
to artistic
vision
painter's
desire
no drying
period
required
full
paintings
requiring
maximum
only
a few
minutes
of detail
touch ups
post main
work dry
produced
in short
flame
time
periods
an entire
landscape
in under
half
an hour
burning
hail
massive
next
innovation
digital artwork
caricatures
portraits rocks
holy grail
speed
painting
computer
instant generating
music booming
by Nico
Di Mattia
is heart
kettle drum
storm playing
soul inflaming
imagination
run riot pot roast
heaven dancing
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Madonna portrait
I saw you painting,
not a sideways glance
of a elephant head
with deep creases showing,
or the neck of a giraffe,
not a Tuscan scene
with tables with white table clothes,
neither an abstract scene
in blue, green and gold.
A portrait unfolded before my eyes,
not a half naked nymph,
or wood fairy
but a Madonna without child
pregnant and serene
looking utterly holy
with olive skin
and great big innocent eyes
against dark colours
in a ruby red cloak.
Your fingers mixed colours expertly
on the palette
to the right exact hue
and blazing lights
lit the canvas
on the easel
and the painting
became an old world masterpiece
with stroke after little stroke
adding depth and meaning
and somewhere in the distance
a midnight-black dragon appeared
with a open mouth
as if drawing nearer
truly alive
detailed to the smallest respect
and evil in every way.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In the Bright Colours of Love
Our tongues
like little fishes
darting in & out
of each other's mouth.
Here...a playful
little fish.
Here...a fish
vivid with lust.
There...
a fish
arrayed
in the bright
colours of love.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Carnations (Balassi Stanza)
Carnations grow lovely,
perfect beauty I see
in vivid colours of white
red, pink, some are yellow
with loveliness they glow,
are usually quite bright,
they smell somewhat like cloves,
have purity of doves,
they are flowers drawing sight.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Autumn Leaves
The autumn leaves swirl to the ground in their millions.
Gold, russet, ochre, burnt umber, and deep vermillion.
Down to the ground, the dying leaves flit and flutter;
On to the grassy bank, the pathway, and into the gutter.
Some of the colours of the leaves are deep and so very rich.
Whirling along the ground, some leaves tumble into the ditch.
A thick layer of multicoloured leaves now carpets the earth,
Leaving the trees bare, in readiness, for next spring’s rebirth.
With changing leaf colours, many people love this time of year,
But, that summer is well and truly over, it is now perfectly clear.
The many colours mixed together are a magical sight to behold;
I love the shades of yellow, crimson, sienna, and ruby red, so bold.
Some leaves are mottled, with two glorious colours or more;
Adding to the fabulous display, which now lies upon the floor.
Children love nothing better, than to frolic through the fallen leaves;
When workmen collect them up, they’re left feeling very aggrieved.
Even though the weather is getting cold, the colours look so warm.
Fiery reds and oranges, and golden hues, like those of ripened corn.
Photographers find this time of year, so very evocative and inspiring;
The spectacular displays before them, they spend much time admiring.
As the season draws on, the once vibrant colours begin to dull and fade.
Soon, all that is left are brown leaves, which once boasted brilliant shades.
When leaves first change their colour, they create much admired foliage,
But with age and weather, over the coming weeks, there is much spoilage.
I love the dark green leaves, with their edges tinged with a brilliant red.
But, alas, those colours will fade, now that the leaf is no longer being fed.
The crisp, bright colours can offer cheer on even the very dullest of days,
But in our minds, we know it won’t be long before winter comes our way.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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